"Everyone will write poetry."
Something interesting happened to me while I was writing the previous text. In fact, I have never been in a position to write being limited by deadlines and the number of words (except for school assignments). So, at one point I'd realized that I might even be late with my text, which made me a little nervous. A friend who helps me with the translations into English, prophetically told me that it is good, because writing under pressure can get a great story out of me.
What writing under pressure pulled out of me were a few very quick and crystal clear insights:
- For the first time in my life, I said clearly and loudly that I had materialized something (two books). In fact, I was confused while writing this and I almost used some other word construction, which would not have clearly emphasized (to me in the first place) that I actually had published two books. Maybe they didn't achieve the success I wanted, but they are here, in this 3D reality. They are here and they are tangible. This is very important because, you know, all of my life I've been chanting how I can't be given anything, how I can't complete anything, how I'm incompetent and useless for everyday life, bla bla bla, etc!
- The following insight came to me immediately: why is it difficult for me to be grateful? Because I clearly see there is a force that does not allow me to get out of some set frames, because only in those frames (which squeeze me, limit me, pinch me, drive me crazy) am I was drawn into situations, relationships, tasks that press my biggest buttons. It's like there's a huge calculator up there that has nothing better to do than to track what's happening to me in my little life. And then, as soon as I manage to break through the fence somewhere and get into the plus zone, it raises the alarm. As in bookkeeping (I did it briefly, I forgot its name... There is a branch of bookkeeping where you enter data in two columns, and when you underline those columns at the end, the amounts should be even. If the number at the end of the first and the second columns is not the same, it means you have entered something incorrectly). So God, as soon as he hears the alarm because the calculator has calculated that I am in the black, he slaps and balances me. And now, for example, I should be grateful that my salary is higher this month than I expected it to be, but on the same day, something in my house breaks down, just enough to cover that surplus. You know what I'm talking about. It happens to all of us, only it is very difficult for me to bear it, not because of the money, but because of the message I receive: "There is no movement from here". I better not go into details about how much it drives me crazy and how angry I am at God for it... In short, I feel like I’m in prison, like I’m a slave. I repeat money is a smaller problem! The worst thing is that I feel that some force, much stronger than me, doesn't let me move from the position I am.
- Perhaps the strangest thing of all, as I was writing the text, the thought came to me: But that is good! All is well! If a book is published by a person who didn’t write that book, or an album is released by a person who didn’t sing the songs, it is good, because in this life that someone is going through the experience of what it’s like to be famous. And those who know how to write and sit alone in a small newsagent shop, selling books of those mentioned earlier, probably go through the experience of what it is like to be ordinary and unrecognized. All of this was beautifully conceived and directed by God.
- No! The fourth insight is the strangest one: it just clicked, maybe it wasn't God who chose it, but me (we always choose)?
I felt like I was on an accelerated course of self-transformation. I already had some of this knowledge, but only mentally, theoretically, I didn't feel it, now somehow everything has fallen into place. At every thought, my stomach was in peace. It may not be its favorite dish, but it is digestible.
P.S. Branko Miljković was a great Serbian poet who lived for only 27 years. He died in 1961. He was prophetically right, but seen from this perspective: what's more important? The thing we are great writers or the experience we go through, no matter whether we are great writers or we lie we are so?
Author: Vesna Mišić, born in 1968. Leads one ordinary life in Serbia. Has been writing ever since she learnt to write. Publish two novels. Tried various spiritual techniques till Mohanji found her. She realised then that it'd be a long voyage and that she's just got on board an ocean liner